out at the gray wet world. He was humped and si- 

 lent and meditative, his whole attitude speaking the 

 extreme length of his day, the monotony of the drip, 

 drip, drip from the eaves, and the sitting, the cease- 

 less sitting, of his brooding wife. 



He might have hastened the time by catching a 

 few flies for her or by taking her place on the nest, 

 but I never saw him do it. 



Things were livelier when the eggs hatched, for it 

 required a good many flies a day to keep the five 

 young ones growing. And how they grew ! Like 

 bread sponge in a pan, they began to rise, pushing 

 the mother up so that she was forced to stand over 

 them ; then pushing her out until she could cling 

 only to the side of the nest at night ; then pushing 

 her off altogether. By this time they were hanging 

 to the outside themselves, covering the nest from 

 sight, almost, until finally they spilled off upon their 

 wings. 



Out of the nest upon the air ! Out of the pen and 

 into a sweet, wide world of green and blue and golden 

 light ! I saw the second brood take their first flight, 

 and it was thrilling. 



The nest was placed back from and below the 

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